Movie Review: The Testament of Ann Lee

Most of the time after watching a movie it’s fairly easy for me to begin forming my opinion on it. Was I entertained, moved, awestruck, provoked? Or was I bored, irritated, bewildered? But every so often a film leaves me strangely adrift. The Testament of Ann Lee, director Mona Fastvold’s musical look at the founding of the Shaker Movement is one such film. It certainly has a lot working in its favor, but I left it wondering what the point was, and it’s not exactly clear that Fastvold or her co-screenwriter Brady Corbet do either.

Amanda Seyfried stars as the titular Ann Lee, giving a breathtaking performance that it nearly justifies the movie on its own. As a child, she witnesses her parents having sex. No one ever wants to see that, but for young Ann it is such a weirdly traumatizing event that it forever changes her attitudes towards intimacy. As an adult, she and her brother William (Lewis Pullman) stumble upon a small religious sect whose members convulse and cry out in ecstatic worship. Within this group she meets and falls for a young man named Abraham (Christopher Abbott), marries him, and endures three pregnancies that quickly end in tragic losses. Convinced she’s being punished for carnal sin, Ann renounces sex entirely. Abraham is rather nonplussed; the sect’s leaders, however, treat her abstinence as divine revelation and elevate her to the role of Mother Ann.

As was common in 18th‑century England, fringe religious communities faced hostility, and Ann’s followers eventually flee to America in search of safety. There, they set up their community and set about spreading their gospel, with Ann firmly in place as their leader. Some, like Pastor Reuben Wright (Tim Blake Nelson) are quick to embrace the Shakers’ radically puritanical teachings, but even across the Atlantic there are still some who consider her to be dangerous, which puts the lives of her and her followers in grave danger.

The story is compelling, if curiously incurious, and it’s rendered with undeniable beauty. Cinematographer William Rexer purposefully conjures up images reminiscent of Renaissance masterworks and composer Daniel Blumberg’s interpolations of original Shaker hymns set a tone that is eerily beautiful. Celia Rowlson-Hall’s choreography is a particular highlight, channeling the group’s fervor into movement that feels both ritualistic and volatile. But what is it all for?

Thanks to the talent involved, The Testament of Ann Lee is (almost) never dull, but it’s odd to see a woman who seems so misguided and who effectively formed a sizeable cult being lifted up as the “hero” of the story. She’s not depicted as cruel or tyrannical, but it’s difficult to see her movement leading anywhere good—if only because its foundational beliefs seem biologically unsustainable. A case could be made that this is a story of female empowerment and the ways male authority seeks to contain it, but it isn’t the strongest in that regard either. That said, the movie kept me engaged, has lingered with me for several days now, and even has me contemplating a second watch. That has to count for something. ★★★★